


Go to Sleep, Little Bumblebee

by MileyCyprus_Hill



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: Arthur gets his happy ending, Bumblebee - Freeform, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Heartwarming, Papa Arthur Morgan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24682471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MileyCyprus_Hill/pseuds/MileyCyprus_Hill
Summary: Arthur’s young daughter has a nightmare.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Reader, Arthur Morgan/Reader, Arthur Morgan/You
Comments: 9
Kudos: 82





	Go to Sleep, Little Bumblebee

**Author's Note:**

> Using the same daughter from my Bumblebee fic. I was craving fluff while working on a chapter for a different story. So here’s some more papa Arthur b/c he deserves a happy life.

“Papa?” A gentle, sputtering call wakes Arthur from his deep slumber. He remains still for a moment on the bed, his eyes now open and staring straight ahead in the dark room. He listens for it again to make sure he hasn’t imagined it. 

“Mama?” The little voice cries again in a pathetic whimper, as if afraid to disturb the imaginary monsters in the dark. Arthur picks his head up from his feather pillow and looks to the bedroom door ahead of him. It’s cracked open and he hears the voice travel through the hallway from the second bedroom. 

Another faint whimper breaks through the silence and Arthur draws back the warm bedsheets. The sound of the crisp summer sheets fluff softly underneath the light, hand-stitched quilt. The dim moonlight shines through the cracked curtains of the window at the other side of the room. With a gentle hand, he removes your arm that’s wrapped around his side. Your arm is limp and heavy, a sign that you’re still deep asleep. 

You stir and mumble sleepily, “Wha’s wrong?” 

Your eyes remain closed while you stretch your arms and legs, loosening your tight muscles. 

Arthur swings his legs off the bed and rests his bare feet upon the cool planks of the floor. 

He mumbles groggily, “Nothin’. Go back to sleep.” 

With one arm, Arthur reaches behind him and pulls the bedsheets back over you. You quickly fall back asleep with your head nestled in the thick feather pillow. Your arm lies out in front of you on the warm, empty space that marks Arthur’s side of the bed. 

The subtle crying from the adjacent room continues as Arthur gets up and steps through the doorway. His joints pop and crackle when he takes the first few steps. He wobbles slightly with his stiff hips and tired legs.   
His daughter’s bedroom is just across the short hallway with the door halfway open. Her soft crying becomes clearer the closer Arthur steps to her door. 

“Bea?” He whispers kindly, pushing the door further open with the back of his hand. He stands there in his ivory long johns, shirtless and his shaggy hair tousled. 

The crying stops and her little voice whispers in fear.

“Daddy?” 

“Yeah, honey. What’s wrong?” Arthur asks. His eyes scan the dark bedroom for any sign of danger or intrusion. It appears to be empty. The midnight breeze gently blows through the slightly open window and the white laced curtains flutter in response. 

Her voice squeaks as she answers, “I had a bad dream.” 

A tired yet relieved sigh breathes past Arthur’s lips. 

_Just a bad dream._ He thinks to himself. 

His bare feet shuffle silently into the room towards his daughter’s bed. In the dark, he still manages to see her reach out to him, desperately wanting his fatherly comfort. Leaning down, he lets her wrap her arms around his neck and broad shoulders. He kneels beside her bed, pressing a large hand on her back and rubbing in small, soothing circles. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He shushes, continuously rubbing her back. He turns his head slightly and presses a gentle kiss upon her temple through her long, thick hair. 

Bea’s breathing grows frantic as she recounts her nightmare to him.

“I dreamed you were gone. You and mommy left and I couldn’t find you.” Her voice is muffled by his shoulder and he feels her wet tears against his skin. 

“Shh, it’s okay now.” Arthur reassures her. 

“I looked and I looked and you didn’t come home,” Bea continues with a whine. Her arms wrap tighter around Arthur’s neck and she cries into his shoulder, bursting into sobs. 

Arthur wraps both arms around her in a comforting embrace, holding her close to him and silently convincing her that he won’t let her go. 

“It was only a dream,” he whispers in her ear. “You’re okay now. I’m here. Mommy and I won’t ever leave you like that.” 

Still rubbing a hand on her back, he gently sways side to side. He hums a peaceful tune while rocking her back and forth in minute movements to calm her down. Bea’s breathing slows and she sniffs back her tears while her crying subsides. The deep, rich timbre of his voice vibrates in his chest while he hums and Bea feels its loving sound enter her ears and calm her anxious thoughts.   
Arthur feels the tension in her small body begin to relieve as she continues to accept his protective hug. Her small fingers idly twirl the ends of his shaggy hair at the nape of his neck and she holds him as if she’s hugging a giant bear. A bear that would cause men to recoil in fear at its wild terror, but protects his offspring with a tender care that rivals many mothers. The feeling of his soft hair soothes her and he returns the touch by smoothing down her hair on the back of her head. The touch of his thick hands make her feel safe again, reminding her how strong and protective her daddy is. 

Arthur speaks again in a low, comforting tone, “You gotta go back to sleep, okay?” 

Breaking the hug, he leans back and rubs his hands over her hair, smoothing down any loose strands. 

Bea answers with a sniffle, “Okay.” She lets out a long sigh, like a weight has been breathed out of her lungs and rose from her body. 

Just as she lays back down and Arthur tucks her in, a screeching yowl is heard from outside Bea’s window.   
They both turn towards the window and Bea grabs at Arthur’s forearm in terror, unable to recognize the sound. The yowl continues and is joined by another, followed by hissing and screeching. It sounds like two hellish goblins screaming and lashing, trying to get in through the window. 

“Daddy,” Bea whines in terror, “What is that?” She continues to grip his arm tightly. 

Arthur himself feels startled but quickly identifies the sound. He breathes an irritated sigh and stands up. 

_Goddamn cats._

The screeching and hissing continues as Arthur walks to the window. He peers out and sees two cats facing off with their backs arched high and fur standing on edge. They swat and bite at each other, screeching loudly as they quickly entangle themselves into an angry mass of claws and teeth.   
Irritated, Arthur taps against the glass window repeatedly with the knuckle of his index finger. 

“Hey! Get outta here. Shoo!” He whispers loudly and angrily. 

The two felines immediately break apart and sprint away from the house in separate directions, disappearing into the night. 

Arthur turns to Bea who sits upright in her bed, staring at him wide-eyed in fear. She clutches her blanket close to her chest with both hands. 

“S’allright, sweetie. Just a couple’a cats fightin’.” He tells her in his gentlest voice, sitting himself on the end of her bed. The springs of the mattress sink under his weight with a soft creak. 

Bea’s heart still races and she now feels wide awake and alert. 

“Are they okay?” She worries. 

“They’ll be fine. Don’tchu worry.” He assures her, giving her foot a reassuring squeeze over the blanket. 

“I can’t go to sleep now,” she tells him, “I’m scared.” 

Arthur adjusts his jaw and lightly grinds his teeth. He expected as much, as the sound of fighting cats outside one’s bedroom would cause _anyone_ to jolt awake. It’s definitely not a pleasant sound to hear, especially in the middle of the night. 

“Alright, c’mere.” Arthur sighs. He scoops Bea up into his arms with her blanket wrapped around her and cascading down his arms. Her short legs hang from his burly arms and he carries her as if she’s as light as air. She rests her head against him as he steps out of her room and into the hallway. 

The hallway opens up to a spacious kitchen to the left, with the living area directly across it to the right. A stone fireplace is nestled into the wall with a long mantlepiece decorated with framed photos and drawings. The fireplace remains empty as the summer heat has slowly been returning, leaving the evenings cool and comfortably breezy. A long, brown leather sofa sits perpendicular to the fireplace. Its worn leather is cracked and split in a few spots near the tufted buttons, allowing the stuffing to poke through. Across from it rests a tall rocking chair, strikingly beautiful with its dark, espresso wood and exaggerated curves. The ends of the curved legs jut out in the front and back like the ends of a longbow. When sitting in the chair, the sturdy backrest stretches several inches above Arthur’s head, making him appear small.   
Arthur sits on the thin cushion of the rocking chair with Bea in his arms. A creak sounds as Arthur gently rocks forward and back in the chair with Bea’s legs resting over one of the long armrests. 

Bea remains wrapped in her blanket while Arthur resumes humming. It’s a familiar tune, one she learned in school and sang throughout the house almost endlessly. It remained stuck in Arthur’s head afterwards, popping up at random times while working. But it’s sweet and charming with its slow and steady rhythm and Bea enjoys hearing him sing it—or mumble it, more like. He doesn’t remember the lyrics, so he hums it to her on occasion. Arthur hums it in a slow melody, changing the tone from jovial and lighthearted to something deeper and languid; like a soothing lullaby.

He’ll throw in a few soft, improvised words like, “Go to sleep, my little bumblebee.” 

Bea lays her head near his shoulder and Arthur tips his own to rest his cheek upon her head. He adjusts a few times to press a kiss to her crown. The soothing vibration of his voice returns and gently lulls her back to sleep.   
Arthur continues rocking until he feels his own eyelids grow heavy. He should get up and put Bea back to bed, but he’s too comfortable to move. He’s stuck, with both of them nestled with each other and his mindless rocking too soothing to interrupt.   
Soon the gentle swaying of the chair stops and Arthur’s head rests heavy upon Bea’s. They’re both asleep, holding onto each other on the tall rocking chair. 

Arthur doesn’t hear your soft footsteps coming down the hall, but feels the light touch of your fingers against his bare arm. He awakes gently and blinks open his eyelids to see you standing over him. The sun hasn’t risen yet but, the dark sky has now lightened to a pale gray. 

Arthur lifts his head, feeling the sore muscles of his neck tighten from the awkward angle. He looks up into your eyes and sees you smile at the sight of him. Your fingers lift from his arm and brush through his thick hair, straightening and smoothing the kinks and cowlicks. 

“What time is it?” Arthur whispers, holding back a tired yawn. 

“Almost five,” you answer. Your eyes move down to your daughter held in his arms, wrapped in her blanket and sleeping soundly.   
“Why don’t you go back to bed? I’ll take her.” You tell him, noticing his tired eyes. 

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll put her in.” Arthur answers. Slowly, he rises off the chair and stands while balancing Bea in his arms. You step behind him and watch him walk to her room and gently lay her back on her bed. She remains undisturbed as Arthur tucks her back in, pulling her blanket up close to her cheek. 

You stand outside her room as Arthur closes the door behind him. He looks to you with tired eyes.   
Taking one step forward, you close the gap between you two and place your hand on his cheek. He leans into your soft touch and closes his eyes, breathing a tired sigh. He rests both hands on your hips. 

“Go to bed,” you gently order him, “I’ll take care of everything.” 

Knowing better than to disobey you and too tired to try anyway, Arthur nods and steps to the bedroom across the hall. From the hallway, you watch him through the open door and see him drop onto the mattress. His head hits the pillow with a fluffing sound and he lazily pulls the bedsheets over himself. 

With a soft chuckle, you pull the bedroom door closed as the gentle call of a rooster travels from the neighboring farm outside. The sun remains hidden beneath the horizon, with its faint glow cascading everything in a deep indigo and only a few subtle shades of peach reflecting off the clouds. 

_Another hour_ , you think to yourself as you walk to the kitchen. 

_Plenty of time to get breakfast started._

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies if the ending seems a bit clunky and awkward. I wasn’t sure how to wrap it up. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated!


End file.
